Home Again
by Force Unbroken
Summary: This story takes place three days after the events of the episode "The Abduction". It is my take on what happens the morning of Brian's birthday, and what the family's emotions are in the aftermath of Michaela's abduction.


_This is my first fanfiction. Our story begins the night before Brian's birthday, and explores the emotions of the Cooper/Quinn family, plus Sully, in the aftermath of Michaela's abduction._

**_Disclaimer:_**_ So... I own nothing. Nada. Zilch. All rights go to Beth Sullivan and all affiliated with the production of the Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman television show. It's their world. I just play in it._

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**_Home Again_**

_War cries echoed all around him, freezing his blood with terror. He could hear gunshots shattering the air, peppered in with the sound of thundering hooves and the screams of anxious horses. Not daring to move, barely daring to breathe, he stayed anchored in his hiding place, hugging his knees to his chest and trying to become as small as possible. He could feel his breath beginning to hitch in his chest, felt the burning in his eyes as terrified sobs threatened to escape him, but he clamped his jaw shut tightly, wiggling his loose tooth back and forth and desperately trying to concentrate on keeping silent. One false move, one false breath could betray him, and then they would find his hiding place._

_And if they found him, he didn't want to know what would happen._

_He sucked his lower lip between his teeth and shut his eyes tight, not wanting to watch the gang of renegade dog soldiers parading in front of his little hiding place. Right now, in this moment of terror and uncertainty, he wanted his ma, wanted to hide in the comfort of her embrace until the danger was passed. She always knew how to make him feel better. No matter what the problem was, she always knew what to say and do. He felt lucky to have a ma like her, even though she wasn't really his ma. He loved his real ma, and he missed her, but he also loved Dr. Mike, and right now, he would have gone without candy for a whole month just to have her wrap her arms around him and whisper comfort into his hair._

_But he knew that wasn't possible. Dr. Mike had helped him hide in the cavernous insides of a rotting tree trunk and had covered the opening with dry brush and branches, then had told him to stay put and be as quiet as possible until the dog soldiers went away. Then she'd run off to find a hiding place of her own. He wouldn't get to see her until this whole ordeal was over._

_And he was scared._

_The shouts grew louder and the crack of the rifles grew closer and closer, and he could see the dog soldiers' horses thundering past and prancing around through the bushes that concealed him. He began to pray to God over and over to send the dog soldiers away and to let him and his ma go home safely. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, waiting for silence to once again surround him…_

_And after what felt like an eternity, the voices of the dog soldiers became distant and the gunfire was merely a bothersome noise from far away._

_It was over, and he was alone in the silence again._

_He waited another minute before deciding it was really safe, then scuttled from the sanctuary of his hiding place, scattering the branches and leaves that had once concealed him across the rough ground. His eyes drank in his surroundings, searching for his mother, but he couldn't find her. Maybe she was still hiding. Maybe she was waiting on him. He wasn't sure, but either way, he had to find out._

"_Ma?" he began tentatively, not letting his voice get too loud for fear that it would carry back to the now-distant dog soldiers. He looked around for anywhere that she could be hiding, calling out for her again, a little louder this time. "Ma?"_

_But there was no answer. She was nowhere to be found._

_His heart thumped hard in his chest, and fear left a bitter taste in his mouth as he frantically scrambled to find her, running this way and that like a chicken with its head cut off. "Ma?" he yelled louder, beyond caring whether the dog soldiers heard him. He was too afraid of losing his ma to even give the renegade Indians a second thought. "Ma, where are you? Ma?"_

_Tears blinded his eyes, and he sniffed loudly, trying hard not to cry. She had to be here! She couldn't be gone! He couldn't give up until he found her. "Ma!" he screamed, balling his hands into fists and rubbing them across his eyes vigorously. "Ma, please!"_

_But there was no trace of her. She was gone. She was gone like his real ma, and he didn't know how to find her, how to get her back. All he could hear were the sounds of his own sobs as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, all he could feel was the incredible weight of knowing that he was now all alone…_

And with a start, he sat up in bed, letting out a little gasp as his eyes flew open. The nightmare was over.

He was safe.

Brian sat for a moment, his little hands clenched tightly around his blankets, his chest heaving and sweat dotting his brow. He looked around the room, found it exactly as it had been when he fell asleep; Colleen was still in the bed next to his, deep in sleep and completely unaware of his nightmare. A fire still crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow throughout the little homestead, and the curtain separating his and Colleen's room from the rest of the house was still drawn, leaving just enough room between the fabric and the wall for light to enter the bedroom and for him to see by. Everything was okay. It was just a nightmare.

But no, it wasn't, he realized, shaking his head and trying to still his trembling lip. It had really happened, though he hadn't been there when it did. Dr. Mike had been kidnapped by dog soldiers, and nobody had known whether she would be okay or not. After being missing for nearly four days, Sully, who'd never lost faith that Dr. Mike was alive, had brought her back from the dog soldiers' camp and had saved the lives of the Cheyenne prisoners that General Custer had taken captive in retaliation for Dr. Mike's abduction. Brian had never been so relieved to see his ma. But in a way, he'd never been so scared either. When she'd come back, she was battered, bloodied, and bruised, even though she'd told Sully they didn't hurt her, whatever that meant. She had scratches on the side of her face, scrapes all over her knuckles and wrists, bruises up and down her shins and knees, and the bottoms of her feet had been eaten away by sharp rocks and sticks and gravel that the dog soldiers had forced her to walk on without shoes. She'd lost a lot of weight, too, Brian could tell. Her clothes had almost been falling off of her, and she had never seemed so tiny. She was pale and looked more tired than Brian had ever seen her. But what had scared him the most was the fact that her eyes didn't sparkle like they normally did. Brian had always loved Dr. Mike's eyes. He'd always liked the fact that they were two different colors; one was green and the other a hazel brown. Whenever she smiled or laughed, they seemed to light up, the colors in them almost dancing. Sometimes they sparkled with mischief, sometimes with anger, and sometimes with love. But they always sparkled. And not seeing her eyes dance they way they'd always done before had scared him, making him wonder if things would ever be the same again.

She'd been home for three days now, and Brian could tell that she was doing much better. But she still had a long way to go. She hadn't eaten anything the entire time she'd been gone, and had had very little to drink, so she was still very weak. She ate as much as she could during mealtimes, but it wasn't very much, and she couldn't handle anything much heavier than soup or stew or something along those lines. It had scared Brian to begin with when he first saw how little she ate, especially when she was so thin, but she had explained to him that when a person went without food for awhile, their stomach shrank, and they had to eat slowly and not eat much at a time until it stretched back out again. It had made sense, and his worries had abated when she'd ruffled his hair and smiled. But he'd gotten worried again when she'd gone to bed and slept longer than he'd ever seen her sleep before. He'd thought something might be wrong with her, but Sully had told him that she was sleeping a lot because the dog soldiers hadn't let her rest while she was gone. He wished that she'd never been kidnapped. He didn't like seeing her so tired and weak.

Sully had been at the homestead a lot ever since Dr. Mike came home. He'd slept in the rocking chair the first night, wanting to make sure she was alright and didn't wake up in the middle of the night needing anything or scared, and had stayed out in the barn with Matthew after that, remaining close by in case he was needed. He also stayed with Dr. Mike while Brian and Colleen were at school and Matthew was working so she didn't have to try to fend for herself while she was still so weak. Colleen had secretly gotten a little excited, hoping that Dr. Mike and Sully had started courting again, and Brian had started hoping right along with her. After all, he would love to have Sully as his pa. They all would.

But neither Brian nor Colleen were about to ask Dr. Mike about her relationship status.

Brian hugged his arms close around him, feeling a slight chill as the sweat dried on his body. He began to shiver, but he suspected that it was from more than just the cold. Sighing, he nervously wiggled his loose tooth back and forth with his tongue. The nightmare was burned into his memory like the metal in Robert E.'s forge, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again, felt the incredible loneliness and fear pressing down on him. His chin quivered and tears swam in his eyes, and he sucked in a shaky breath, suddenly feeling as afraid as he had the day he'd learned his ma was missing. In that moment, he needed to see his ma, needed to reassure himself that it was all in the past, that the nightmare had only been a nightmare.

He disentangled himself from his blankets and slowly lowered his feet to the floor, shivering more violently as his toes made contact with the rough, cold floorboards. Careful not to wake Colleen, he slipped through the curtain and into the main room of the homestead.

Brian squinted slightly as his eyes grew accustomed to the light of the fire in the hearth. He could feel the warmth of the flames on his skin, and he stood in front of the fireplace, letting the heat melt some of the ice around his heart. His shivering all but stopped.

His eyes roamed over to Dr. Mike's bed, gazing at the sleeping form beneath the blankets. Her red-gold hair shone in the firelight, and she was completely still, her only movement being the rhythmic rising and falling of her chest as she drew breath. The circles beneath her eyes had begun to fade, and her wounds were beginning to heal. She looked much better than she had three days ago.

And that relieved him.

Slowly, gingerly, Brian crept to the unoccupied side of his mother's bed, remaining still and silent as he watched her sleep. She seemed at peace, the slightest trace of a smile curving her lips, her pale skin returning to its usual alabaster color. Her long, feathery lashes lay on her cheeks, her coppery hair spilling down her back. Brian hesitated to wake her. On the one hand, she'd always told him to wake her if he had a nightmare or was sick. She loved him and told him she would always do what she could to help him. But on the other hand, Sully had told him that she needed her rest, and not to wake her if she were sleeping. He felt torn. He could have woken Colleen instead; she was good with situations like this, and she knew how to chase away the nightmarish thoughts. But he needed his ma now, needed the comfort that only she could give, needed to prove to himself that she was real, that she was going to be alright, that everything would go back to normal. After a long moment, he came to a decision and settled for a compromise. As silently and discreetly as he could manage, he slid into bed next to his mother, taking comfort from the closeness of her presence and hoping that he hadn't awakened her. Suddenly fighting the burn of tears, he closed his eyes.

Michaela wasn't sure what had awakened her, but for the first time in two days, she hadn't been pulled back from the brink of unconsciousness by horrible memories of her abduction. She felt…at peace, though she was still exhausted.

Exhausted barely even began to cover it.

She nuzzled her pillow, burying herself deeper within the warm cocoon of her blankets and taking a deep breath. Sleep beckoned to her again, calling her into blissful oblivion, but a small sound, barely audible over the crackle of the fire in the hearth, kept her from succumbing to the inexorable pull of slumber. Her brow furrowed, but she didn't open her eyes. Instead she lay still, waiting to see if the sound made an encore appearance. Sure enough, a few moments later, she heard it again, and was it her imagination, or did it sound like…a sniff?

Slowly Michaela dragged her eyes open, feeling like two five-pound weights were attached to her eyelids. The world gradually swam into focus, the blur of her surroundings finally becoming clear as she blinked away the remnants of her deep sleep.

The first thing she became aware of was the manifestation of that almost unidentifiable sound. She was sure it was a sniffle; in fact, it sounded almost like someone was crying. Then her eyes fell to the sandy-haired lump next to her in her bed, and she realized she was no longer alone.

Her puzzled expression softened, and she withdrew a hand from the warm shelter of her blankets, reaching out and resting it on her youngest son's shoulder. "Brian?" she murmured gently, her voice slurred from sleep.

He turned to face her, a wince marring his youthful features, and Michaela studied his face. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, as if he'd been awake for awhile, and she thought she could detect a trace of tears on his lashes. "I'm sorry, Ma," he whispered, his voice tremulous, "I didn't mean to wake ya."

Michaela shook her head, running her fingers comfortingly through Brian's feathery blonde hair. "No, sweetheart, it's alright," she said softly, lifting her head a little and feeling a slight twinge race through her neck. Her expression turned to one of gentle concern. "What's wrong, Brian? Are you alright? Do you hurt anywhere?"

He shook his head, scrubbing a fist across his face. "No," he said thickly, his tone almost reluctant. It almost seemed like he wasn't ready to tell her what was wrong.

Her heart went out to him, and she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before returning her hand to stroke his hair. "What is it, then?" she asked, her voice warm and soothing.

She watched him wiggle his loose tooth with his tongue, a habit he'd picked up over the past few days. He seemed uncertain, and it took him awhile to decide how to answer her question. "I…I had a…a nightmare," he admitted finally, his chin beginning to quiver. "It was…it was about the dog soldiers…" His voice choked off, and Michaela could see tears in his cool blue eyes. Her heart melted, despite the tightening she felt in her chest at the mention of the dog soldiers. She suspected that would be a memory that would be slower to fade.

"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered, laying her small hand on his cheek. "Come here," she said, spreading her arms and motioning for him to come closer.

Brian didn't hesitate. He scooted over to her, diving into her arms and burying his face in her neck. Michaela wrapped him in a tight, comforting embrace, resting her chin on the top of his head and closing her eyes for a moment. The little boy returned her hug, holding tightly to her waist. He breathed in a deep, shaky breath, taking in the sweet, delicate smell that was unique only to his mother. He was still unnerved by how thin she was, how fragile she felt to him, but he knew she was getting better, and that comforted him. Blinking as his tears fell from his lashes, he sniffed again.

"You don't have to worry about the dog soldiers," Michaela said soothingly, trying to take her own words to heart. "Sully said they've headed south to get away from Custer and the army. They won't be back for a long while. You're safe."

Pulling back for a moment, Brian shook his head, looking up at her through gummed eyelashes. His eyes locked with hers for a moment, two pools of deep blue gazing back into her own mismatched amber and jade. "It ain't that," he managed, his voice choked with tears.

Puzzled, Michaela furrowed her brow. "Then what's troubling you, Brian?"

"It's…" Sighing, the little boy fell silent, as if struggling for words that wouldn't come. Michaela didn't know whether he wasn't sure what to say or whether he didn't know if he wanted to tell her at all. Soothingly she let her fingers roam through the softness of his hair, offering whatever comfort she could. After a long moment of deliberation, Brian finally spoke.

"I…I dreamed that the dog soldiers came back," he began shakily, sniffling loudly before continuing on. "We were hiding so they wouldn't find us. When they finally left I came out, but…" He broke off again, his cheeks wet with tears and his lower lip trembling uncontrollably. "You were gone again, Ma. I couldn't find you anywhere."

Michaela could feel her heart shattering within her chest. His nightmare wasn't about his own safety. It was about hers. He was afraid of losing her again. She swallowed hard against a lump in her throat, feeling pain and regret sweeping over her in waves. "Brian…" she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable.

He buried himself in her embrace again, hiding his face from her, his shoulders trembling with restrained sobs. All the emotion he'd buried since her abduction came bubbling to the surface, and he couldn't hold it in any longer. The words spilled from his lips, and he didn't try to restrain them. "I was scared, Ma," he choked out, his head bobbing slightly as his shoulders shook. "Sully kept tellin' us that you were alright, and that he was gonna get ya back, but he didn't look so sure all the time. Me an' Colleen an' Matthew kept tryin' to do things like we always did so everything would be normal when ya came home, but it was so hard waitin' without knowin' if you were okay or not. I just didn't know what to do…" He broke off with a strangled sob, and he didn't try to resume what he was saying. He just clung to her and wept softly.

Michaela could no longer stop the flood of her own tears. Her son's gentle heart and unconditional love moved her beyond anything she'd ever felt before. She'd had no idea how much the events of the past few days had affected him. He'd seemed to be himself, though maybe not as lively or effusive as usual, but she'd attributed that to lack of adequate rest. She'd never thought that his subdued behavior had been due to concern for her, and she felt guilty for causing him so much pain.

She held him close, whispering into his hair and rubbing his back soothingly. "It's alright, Brian," she said, her voice barely audible in the stillness. "Shhh. It's alright." She repeated those words over and over until his sobs abated and his tears stopped. "You don't have to be afraid anymore," she murmured, as much to herself as to Brian. "It's all over now."

Slowly he nodded, looking up at her bravely, his tear-streaked face small and vulnerable. "I know," he said.

Michaela gave him a small smile, then buried her nose in his hair and kissed the top of his head. She reached up and wiped away the tears on her face, hoping that Brian hadn't seen them.

Brian shifted a little in her arms, and she let her chin rest on top of his head. "Ma?" he murmured, his voice becoming stronger.

"Hmm?"

"Can…can I sleep here tonight? Please?"

Michaela snuggled him closer, settling against her pillow. "Of course you can," she whispered, dropping another kiss into his hair.

After a few minutes Brian's breathing became slow and steady, indicating that he'd finally dropped off to sleep in the comfort of his mother's arms.

It was only then that Michaela let her tears flow freely.

* * *

Sully awoke to the morning sun streaming into the barn, the golden rays dancing over his face and warming his skin. Squinting, he propped up on his elbows, casting a glance to the loft above him. Matthew was still asleep, his slight snore audible over the relative silence of the barn. Shrugging his shoulders, Sully rolled over with a groan, feeling the softness of the hay he'd slept on giving beneath his weight. The sun hadn't been up long, and he reckoned that now was as good a time as any to rise. Picking himself up off his makeshift mattress, he reached for his belt, fastening it firmly around his waist and setting off for the homestead.

The cold morning air hit his face as he stepped out of the barn, and he took a deep, cleansing breath, closing his eyes for a moment in contemplation. It was so good to have Dr. Mike home, he thought, shuddering a little as a cool draft caressed his face. He'd been terrified the entire time she'd been gone, and having her back where it was safe relieved him beyond measure. He had come so close to losing her, and he knew it. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her the way she was when he'd found her: bloody and bruised and on the verge of collapse, her beautiful mismatched eyes so lifeless and weary… He shuddered again, but this time it had nothing to do with the cold. In his mind, Sully repeated the vow he'd sworn when he'd first found her, the same words he'd recited to himself over and over again ever since he'd brought her home:

_I will never lose her like that again. Never._

And he meant it.

With new determination he started for the homestead, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He figured he'd help Colleen with breakfast so Dr. Mike could rest as much as possible. She was doing much better, but he knew she still had a long road ahead of her. She was still weak and tired easily, and even doing everyday tasks took a toll on her. But that didn't stop her from trying. More than once Matthew and Sully had had to tell her to sit down before she fell down, and she'd acquiesced with little complaint, but she'd tried just the same. It hurt Sully to see her so tired and weak when she was usually so strong and spirited and independent. He could tell that she didn't like having to be so dependent on him and the children, but she really didn't have much choice in the matter. So she bore the situation with poise, grace, and a rather sheepish smile. Secretly, however, Sully was almost glad that she needed help. It gave him an excuse to be around her as much as possible.

He thought back to the last words they'd said to each other on the cliff, the three words he'd locked away into his heart and sworn to never forget. She'd stood before him, her arms locked with his, terror visible through the unimaginable pain on her face. He'd found himself drowning in the amber and jade pools of her eyes, and the words had bubbled to his lips almost before he'd known what he was saying. _"I love you,"_ he'd said, forgetting for a moment the gunshots screaming all around him, only thinking about her, about how much he loved her, how much he needed her, how much he was praying that it wasn't too late…

He hadn't been expecting much of a reply, but she'd held onto him tighter, her gaze locked with his, her body trembling in terror and exhaustion, and she'd echoed those same three words that meant more to him than life itself. _"I love you,"_ she'd said, but her tone, the way she'd whispered those words said so much more, said what her heart wanted to say but her lips could not. He'd heard it all, heard the cry of her soul, heard how those three words transformed into _"I love you Sully, I love you more than you'll ever know…_" It had taken all of his self-control to keep from taking her into his arms and kissing those bloodied lips with all the fire in his heart. He'd thought that after Catherine, she'd never feel the same way about him again, but when she'd told him that she loved him, even after everything that had happened to them, he'd known, without a shadow of a doubt, that they would make things right again. He couldn't be without her. She was his heartsong.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he stepped up onto the porch of the little homestead, careful not to make too much noise. He'd better get a move on and help Colleen with breakfast. After all, they had to finish getting everything ready for Brian's birthday party this afternoon. Sully smiled a little when he remembered how Dr. Mike, though half-starved and bruised, had adamantly insisted that they continue with their plans for Brian's birthday. She had a huge heart, and he loved that about her. He only hoped she wouldn't overdo it. He made a mental note to stick close to her this afternoon, in case she got weak and needed someone to lean on. Having her in his arms again would certainly be a welcome feeling.

He reached for the handle and opened the door quietly, in case Dr. Mike was still sleeping. Slipping inside silently, he looked over to the fire, noticing that it had almost gone out. Sully crossed to the hearth and put a few more logs on, waiting to make sure that the flame didn't go out, then stepped back and looked over at Dr. Mike's bed.

She was still sleeping, looking angelic as her coppery hair splayed out across her pillow behind her. Sully couldn't help but to stare at her, watching the peaceful expression on her beautiful face. His eyes traced the lines of her chin and neck, noticing the way she was curled up beneath her blankets. He hoped she hadn't gotten too cold during the night. Entranced, he crossed the room silently to her bedside.

He suddenly became aware of an extra lump next to her, and it took him a moment to realize that she was not the bed's sole occupant. Brian lay next to her, her arms gently circling his little body, and his sandy hair looked tousled from sleep. On a closer inspection, Sully found the evidence of tears on Dr. Mike's face, noting the slight puffiness of her eyes and the tear tracks on her cheeks. Frowning, he resisted the urge to stroke her cheek with his fingertips; instead, he glanced over to Brian and found the same telltale indicators on his face as well. Sully wondered what had happened in the night, but he figured he would find out sooner or later.

Dr. Mike began to stir, her head rolling slightly on her pillow, and Sully watched as she slowly returned to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her lips slightly parted from sleep, and she squinted as the morning sunlight drifted into her vision. A slight, sleepy hum escaped her lips, and Sully couldn't help but smile. She was adorable.

She finally seemed to notice his presence, and her mismatched eyes moved to gaze at him. "Sully?" she whispered hoarsely.

He grinned. "Good mornin'," he said softly, reaching down and tenderly brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "You're up early."

"Mmm," she acknowledged, gently disentangling herself from Brian and smoothing the boy's wild hair as she sat up in bed. "I may as well," she said, gazing lovingly at her sleeping son. After a moment she looked up at Sully and smiled. "After all, it is his birthday."

Sully extended his hand to her, and she took it, allowing him to help her rise. He marveled at the feel of her small, soft fingers in his larger calloused ones, how right it felt to him. Once she was steadily on her feet he released her, and she pulled her arms through the sleeves of her robe, tying it tightly around her little waist. She shivered a little, and he noticed. "Are ya cold?"

She shook her head, her hair swishing down her back. "No, not really," she murmured, crossing her arms over her chest and wincing slightly as she brushed against her sore ribs. "I'll be fine once I get breakfast started."

It was Sully's turn to shake his head. "You let me worry about that. You just sit down and get warm."

"Sully, really, I can handle it," she argued, her stubbornness kicking in. "I'm not an invalid. Besides, I feel fine."

"Yeah, but ya gotta get your strength up, and the only way to do that is to eat and rest. You're gonna be on your feet all afternoon anyway, and it won't hurt ya to take it easy this mornin'." He moved over to the stove, putting a few logs into it and searching for the matches to light it.

She sighed. "But Sully, I…"

He turned to face her, momentarily forgetting his quest for the matches, and she found herself staring into the deep, azure-blue oceans of his eyes. "Michaela," he said firmly, cutting off her protest in a no-nonsense tone.

A shiver started at her scalp and worked its way down her spine. "Alright," she conceded, taking a seat at the kitchen table. She loved it when he called her by her given name. He'd only done it a few times, but every time it sent sparks shooting through her. Somehow Michaela seemed more…intimate than Dr. Mike, and coming from Sully's mouth, it sounded different from when Hank or Dorothy spoke her name. She loved the way her name rolled off Sully's lips, the way he almost dropped the first syllable when he said it.

She could barely keep a smile off of her lips. She didn't particularly like being treated like an invalid, but somehow to hear Sully say her name made it much easier to bear.

Michaela silently watched as Sully lit the fire in the little stove, then put on a pot of coffee. When it was finally ready he gathered two cups and saucers, then filled the cups with the warm, dark liquid. Carefully balancing one in each hand, he approached the table, setting one cup down in front of Michaela and taking the other himself. She smiled gratefully and let her fingers curl around the cup. "Thank you," she murmured softly, raising the hot liquid to her lips and taking a tentative sip, allowing the warmth to flood through her body.

Sully acknowledged her thanks with a nod, then pulled up a chair and sat down next to her, taking a gulp of his own coffee and feeling the welcome burn as the liquid scorched down his throat. Noticing movement out of the corner of his eye, he glanced over to Michaela's bed and watched the little sleeping form buried beneath the layers of quilts begin to stir. Brian rolled over onto his side, but he didn't wake. Satisfied that the child was still sleeping peacefully, Sully turned his gaze back to Michaela. "Is Brian alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed in equal parts confusion and concern. "He ain't one to get up much during the night."

Michaela nodded, taking another sip of her coffee before answering. "Nightmare," she explained, looking up at him but not meeting his eyes. "He's alright now, though."

She looked away, nursing her cup of coffee absently, and Sully noticed the faraway look in her eyes. It almost seemed as if she were reluctant to meet his gaze, as if she were afraid that he would see through her, see what she was hiding beneath her strong exterior. Concern flooded through him, and he chewed at the inside of his lower lip. Something was obviously bothering her.

Sully laced his fingers together, his eyes never leaving her face. She still wouldn't look at him. His tone was soft, his words gentle when he spoke. "You alright?"

She nodded again, almost appearing startled that he'd asked that question. "Of course," she said quickly, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before she once again averted her gaze. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged casually, thinking about reaching out to catch her hand, longing to feel the way her fingers curled around his, but he thought better of it, not wanting to scare her or make her uncomfortable. "Ya look like somethin's botherin' ya," he said, trying to gently coax her into telling him what was wrong.

When she flinched, he knew he'd hit the nail right on the head. She was definitely avoiding his eyes now. But still she denied it. "It's nothing," she said, trying for and managing a small smile, but it was strained at best, and Sully could easily see that. After a moment of silence he reached out, lightly brushing her arm with his fingertips. "Michaela, what's wrong?" he whispered, the tenderness in his tone almost enough to undo her carefully-maintained self-control.

She exhaled in a long, slow sigh, letting her eyes drift closed. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet he could barely make out what she was saying, and the words that dropped from her lips were the last ones he'd expected to hear. "It's my fault, Sully," she breathed, her posture stiff and rigid, as if she were fighting her own body for control. "It's my fault."

Stunned, he leaned in closer to her, laying his hand on her small arm, trying to give her some measure of comfort. "What are you talkin' 'bout?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Michaela sucked in a deep, shaky breath, forcing herself to face him when she spoke. "Brian came to me in tears last night, saying he'd had a dream about the dog soldiers. I thought he was just afraid that they would return, but he wasn't." She shook her head, and Sully could see the pain in her eyes. "He was afraid for me, Sully. He was afraid he was going to lose me again."

Sully opened his mouth to speak, desperate to offer her some words of comfort, but she looked away from him, stared instead at her son's little face, so peaceful in slumber. "He's nine years old today, still just a little boy. He should be worried about snakes and arithmetic and imaginary monsters under his bed. He should never have to worry about the safety of his family, or about losing me…"

She broke off, her voice trembling and her composure shattering, and Sully couldn't stand to watch her in pain like this. He reached out and took her hand, his eyes pleading with her to face him, but she didn't. "Hey," he began gently, squeezing her fingers in a soothing gesture. She closed her eyes again, struggling against a flood of emotion, and Sully's voice grew firmer in his desire to prevent her from shouldering the blame herself. "Michaela, look at me," he said, his eyes filled with fire and reassurance. Finally she did, her lip trembling and her eyes shining with unshed tears, and this time, she didn't look away.

"You can't blame yourself," he said, locking gazes with her, his azure pools drowning in her amber and jade. "You didn't ask for this to happen. It just did. And the reason Brian was so worried about ya is because he loves ya." Sully's voice softened, and he squeezed her hand again for emphasis. "We all do."

The tears finally began to fall, and Michaela struggled to fight them. "No, Sully, you don't understand," she managed, her voice unsteady. "It isn't only about Brian, its… Two army soldiers are dead because of me. Cloud Dancing's son gave his life to protect me. A whole village of Cheyenne were almost hanged because of me. How can I possibly not blame myself?"

Her tears flowed freely now, and she made no effort to stop them. Any attempt would have been futile anyway. She was losing her battle to remain in control, and she couldn't let him see her this way. Taking her lower lip between her teeth, she turned away from him, letting her head fall into her hands and hiding her tears.

Sully's heart contracted painfully in his chest as he watched her weep into her hands, her shoulders shaking with restrained sobs. She looked so fragile to him, so vulnerable, the façade she so carefully maintained around herself falling away and exposing her heart to his own. Without thinking he moved his chair closer to hers, pulling her into his arms and burying his nose in the copper silk of her hair. Michaela melted against him, sobbing into his chest, all the pent-up guilt and pain flooding through her and finally finding release. Sully pressed his lips against the crown of her head, letting his fingers roam through her silky locks. "Shhh," he whispered, feeling the warmth of her tears through the fabric of his shirt. "There wasn't anythin' you could have done. Ya didn't know that the dog soldiers were on the reservation. Ya only did what ya thought was best, and nobody blames ya for that."

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, her voice muffled against his chest. "I can't stop thinking of how close we came to losing the Cheyenne. Had we been just a few minutes later…"

"But we weren't, Michaela," Sully interrupted, his hands tightening on her shoulders, pulling her out of his warm embrace just far enough to gaze into her red-rimmed eyes. "Ya hear me? We weren't. Don't go frettin' about what coulda happened. Just think about the good things." He gently brushed away the tears cascading down her cheeks, his eyes never leaving hers. "You're home. You're safe. We got back in time to save Cloud Dancin' and the rest of the Cheyenne, and at least for now, we're rid of Custer. Everything's gonna be alright." His hand slid to cup her face, and he ran his fingers over her soft, smooth skin. "You'll see."

Slowly she nodded, her tears finally ceasing, and she wiped away all remaining traces of moisture from her face with a trembling hand. "I'm sorry," she said softly, emitting a sound that came out somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I must look a sight about now."

Sully shook his head with a little smile. "No," he said. "Ya been through a lot lately. Anytime ya need a shoulder ta cry on, I'm here." He leaned closer to her, his lips bare inches from her ear, and in a low voice he whispered, "And personally, I think ya look great."

Warmth stained Michaela's cheeks, and she returned his smile, gratitude shining in her mismatched eyes. "Thank you, Sully," she said, her subdued voice raw with emotion.

Sully could no longer resist; he leaned in the rest of the way and placed a kiss on her temple, welcoming the sparks that shot through him at the sensation of his lips pressing against her skin. "You're welcome," he said, his husky baritone sending shivers down her spine. Then, all too soon, he stood, heading back over to the stove and beginning to gather everything he would need to start breakfast.

Michaela observed silently, breathing deeply to dispel all remaining evidence of weakness in her voice. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate all of your help these past few days," she said after a few moments. Almost shyly she continued, "It's been good to have you here."

Her soft-spoken statement grabbed Sully's attention, and he turned, sending her a broad grin over his shoulder as he reached for the flour. "I've been happy ta do it," he said, and his smile softened. "I like bein' here."

She let out an inaudible sigh, closing her eyes and feeling herself blush at his statement. She'd missed him. There was no denying it. After the incident with Catherine, she'd been so hurt and broken that she'd shut him out, building another wall around herself, determined that no one would break it down this time. In losing him, she'd lost not only the man she loved more deeply than she'd ever loved anyone, but she'd lost her best friend, the one person she felt she could be open with, could be herself with. It was a double blow that had knocked her reeling, and she hadn't known how to even begin to recover. She'd tried her hardest to keep the pain at bay, burying herself deeply in her work, but when the day was done and she could no longer hide behind her responsibilities, the tears had come so easily, drowning her, searching for release. Many nights she'd lain awake, sobbing silently into her pillow after the children had gone to bed and she was alone. But when morning had come, she'd put back up her façade, hiding her weaknesses, becoming Dr. Mike again, Matthew, Brian, and Colleen's mother, the strong, independent doctor who knew the answers and wasn't afraid of anything. That was the image she put forth, determined that he would never know how deeply she'd been wounded, how much he'd hurt her.

But then there had been the moments when their eyes locked, and the deepest parts of their souls had been visible to each other. She had seen the pain and regret in his azure orbs, and she was sure he'd seen the heartache in her own. Despite all of the pain, despite everything that had happened between them, she'd loved him, even then; couldn't stop loving him, no matter how hard she tried to push him away. Every look shared between them, every brush of her skin on his made her damaged nerve endings scream to be in his arms again. It had become a war fought inside her, an endless battle between her heart and her head, her heart pleading with her to forget about what had happened and go back to him and her head telling her that being alone was the only way to prevent getting hurt again. Every time she stared into those deep blue eyes she'd felt so conflicted, so unsure of what to think, what to feel, wishing she could forget the fear and move on.

But now, everything was different. Now, when she looked into his eyes, all she saw was love, the undying love that he'd felt for her through it all. He'd never given up on her, even though she knew she'd hurt him. Now, everything seemed so much clearer. Though her abduction by the dog soldiers had been easily one of the most terrifying and painful experiences of her life, it had really put things into perspective for her. Because of Sully, she was alive, and more than that, she was free.

And she could no longer deny that she was as in love with him now as she had ever been.

Her eyes followed him as he got out a skillet to fry the bacon in and fumbled for a bowl. He wasn't the most graceful or poised chef she had ever seen in the kitchen, but he did possess a moderate amount of cooking knowledge, and she had to admit that so far, everything he'd ever made for them had tasted pretty good.

But when it came to locating ingredients, however, he was completely lost.

Letting a smile crease her lips, she pushed herself out of her chair and went to help him. He was standing in front of the open cupboard with a confused look on his face, his eyes roving over the contents of the cupboard but not seeming to find what he was looking for. "Uh…" he began, trying to pretend that he had everything under control but failing miserably. Michaela breezed past him and reached into the cupboard, first producing a bag of salt then a tin of lard. "Were these what you were looking for?" she asked innocently, favoring him with a sweet smile.

Sully's grin was undeniably sheepish as he took the items from her hands and set them next to the flour and the bowl. "Uh, yeah, I was just about to grab those, actually," he said, none too convincingly.

She nodded, and mischief flashed in her eyes. "Of course you were," she said, and Sully couldn't help but to laugh a little. This was the Michaela he knew and loved, the fiery, independent spirit who was all hard edges and soft corners, who was brave and afraid at the same time, who was full of love and compassion and was never afraid to speak her mind, no matter what others thought of her. He'd missed this part of her, missed seeing it in action, missed watching her beautiful eyes light up with fire and that crooked smile play with her lips. The closeness of her proximity was having an effect on him, and he couldn't deny it, even if he'd wanted to. Slowly he reached out and let his fingers trace her jaw, unsure of what her reaction would be.

Michaela let her eyes drift closed and she leaned into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand soak into the very fiber of her being before opening her eyes again and locking gazes with him. His expression had softened, and his hand strayed from her jaw to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. She was quickly losing herself in his eyes, and for once she didn't try to fight against it. "I missed you," he said simply, the depth of emotion in his tone speaking volumes to her. She knew he meant more than just the time she'd spent imprisoned by the dog soldiers; he'd missed her from before, before the dog soldiers had even been an issue, when Catherine had stepped in and unwittingly driven a wedge between them that neither could overcome. She couldn't let that happen again. She loved him, and she needed him. Losing him again could very well break her apart.

The words came to her lips more easily than anything she'd ever said before. "I missed you too," she whispered, reaching up to lay her small hand over his larger one. He laced his fingers together with hers and pulled her closer, taking her other hand in his as well. She felt the words on her tongue, rolling around inside her mouth, destined to be freed, and she let them fall, needing him to understand what she felt. "When I was with the dog soldiers," she began, her voice soft but strong, "all I could think about were you and the children, whether I would get to see you all again. I promised myself that I wouldn't give up because I had so much to come home to, and I couldn't let any of you down. That thought was what kept me going. I could close my eyes and see your face, and that gave me the strength I needed to make it through. You're the reason I'm standing here now, Sully." Her eyes were bright with tears, and she was smiling. "I love you."

His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked back at her, every last worry he had in the world fading away into nothing. They were going to be alright, he knew it without a doubt. They were going to be alright. Almost unable to contain himself, he lowered his face to hers, his words near a whisper. "I love you too," he said. Then, softly, he brushed his lips against hers, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt whole again.

Michaela slowly deepened the kiss, her arms snaking around his waist and his arms coming up to encircle her shoulders. She felt as though a part of herself had been missing, and now, here with him, she had just found it again. When they finally broke the kiss, she sighed, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder and pressing her face against his neck. They fit together perfectly, like two pieces of the same puzzle. She never wanted to let go.

He nuzzled her hair, breathing her in deeply. "Sully?" she whispered, making no move to release him.

"Hmm?"

"Can we talk later?"

His brow furrowed slightly. "What about?"

"Us," she said softly, pulling back enough to look at his face without letting him go. "About…courting."

Sully grinned, his eyes lighting up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Yes," he said, holding her tightly. "I ain't goin' anywhere. We've got all the time in the world."

After a moment Michaela looked up at him again, a wistful smile on her mouth. "We probably should get breakfast started, shouldn't we?"

He laughed, pressing his lips to her cheek one final time before releasing her. "Yeah, we probably should."

She followed him back to the stove, holding out a spoon to him expertly. "Can I help?" she asked.

"Uh…" He took the proffered spoon, eyeing her carefully, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Oh, come on, Sully, my cooking isn't _that_ bad. Honestly." She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to come off as defiant, but Sully only thought she looked cute. "Alright, I gotta admit, your stew ain't bad," he said, leaning in close to her face again. He waited until his lips were only inches from her forehead before finishing with, "But your biscuits are horrible."

Mock outrage flashed in her eyes, and she gave him a firm but playful shove, her mouth open slightly as she let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Byron Sully!" she exclaimed, careful not to let her voice get too loud, and he knew he was in trouble when she used his full name. "I ought to kick you out of my kitchen for that!"

He couldn't keep from smiling as he raised his hands in a sheepish gesture of surrender. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry," he said, noticing how she'd reclaimed the spoon she'd given to him earlier and looked as though she were about to brandish it much as he would his tomahawk. "Just don't hit me with that thing."

She gave him a slightly evil smile, elated at her victory, and said, "You just go back to breakfast and I might reconsider whacking you."

Sully nodded, conceding defeat, and Michaela finally dropped the spoon back into the bowl. He caught her eyes and smiled. At least for now, all was right with the world.

* * *

Neither Michaela nor Sully had known they were being watched, but a pair of little blue eyes had been secretly observing them from across the room, still buried beneath warm layers of quilts. Brian had awakened to the sounds of hushed voices breaking through the silence of the little homestead, and had been staring out at his ma and Sully through the thin gap between his eyelids. He'd always been told that it wasn't polite to spy, but when he saw his ma and Sully standing close together and holding hands, it was too tempting to ignore. Still feigning sleep, he drew the quilts up closer to his chin and hoped that Dr. Mike and Sully didn't look his way.

They didn't. Instead their eyes stayed fixed on each other, their fingers remaining intertwined, and Brian hoped beyond hope that it meant they were courting again. He perked up his ears and lay completely still, straining to hear what was being said.

"-that thought was what kept me going," Dr. Mike was saying. "I could close my eyes and see your face, and that gave me the strength I needed to make it through." Brian was beginning to wonder what she was talking about, and he could only guess she was referring to being held captive in the dog soldiers' camp. He didn't let his mind dwell on it for too long, however, because she was speaking again, and he threw all of his effort into understanding what she was saying.

"You're the reason I'm standing here now, Sully," she said, her voice not much more than a whisper to Brian's frustration. But her next words rang out clearly to Brian, even though her voice was as soft as ever…

"I love you."

_She said it! _Brian was so happy that it was all he could do to keep a grin off of his face and appear asleep. _She actually said it! _They were still in love, and there was still a chance that they would get back together. He could barely wait to tell Colleen.

Sully's reply was almost lost to Brian, but it looked like he'd said _"I love you too"_, or something along those lines. The look of utter joy on his face, however, was unmistakable, and he slowly leaned down and pressed a kiss to Dr. Mike's lips.

The next few moments went by in kind of a blur for Brian. He only really paid attention to the kiss long enough to know that both Dr. Mike and Sully were unbelievably happy; he had much more on his mind anyway. Colleen would be so mad that she'd missed this! Brian had never really been one for mushy stuff, but Colleen had a much more romantic mind, and the fact that Dr. Mike and Sully were the ones doing the kissing would only sweeten the deal for her. They all had had their hopes up about Dr. Mike and Sully getting back together, and now it seemed that all their hoping had finally paid off.

Or, at least, he hoped that was what it meant.

They were hugging now, and Brian saw his ma's lips moving. It looked like she was asking Sully a question, and, not wanting to miss anything, Brian turned his attention back to their conversation, feeling excitement inexplicably starting to build within him.

"Can we talk later?"

Sully looked a little confused. "What about?"

"Us." Brian saw his ma draw back and look lovingly at Sully. "About…courting."

The rest of the conversation was lost to Brian, and Sully's grin and joyful acknowledgment barely even registered to him. It was really happening! They were courting again! Sully could still be his pa after all!

He could barely contain himself, and it was all he could do to hold still. He wanted to wake Colleen, then run out to the barn and tell Matthew. What a way to wake up on his birthday! Having a family again was the best gift he could ever have gotten. His ma was home, and more than that, she was happy again. Brian could no longer keep the smile off of his face. Today could quite possibly be the best day ever.

Brian had been so lost in thought that he hadn't even noticed he could no longer see Dr. Mike and Sully. They had drifted out of his line of vision and farther into the kitchen, and he could hear pots and pans softly clanging. He opened his eyes tentatively, almost afraid that they might reappear and see him spying on them, but when they stayed out of sight, he let his lids pop open. After a moment he heard what sounded like a muted version of his mother's outraged squeal, followed by Sully's laughter, and that did it for Brian. He could no longer force his restless self to stand by and let Dr. Mike and Sully have all the fun. Tossing back the blankets, he slid out of bed, heading for the kitchen the moment his bare feet touched the floor.

Michaela turned away from the stove in time to see her youngest son enter the room, his hair tousled and wild from sleep. He rubbed his eyes, and she smiled at him. "Good morning, Brian," she said pleasantly, and she seemed stronger to him than she had since she'd come home.

He couldn't help but to return her smile. "Mornin' Ma. Hey Sully," he said, acknowledging both of the adults at once.

Sully turned away from the bowl of biscuit dough he'd been stirring and tipped his chin in greeting. "Mornin' Brian," he replied.

Michaela went to her son, wrapping her arms around him affectionately. "Happy birthday," she murmured, pressing her lips to his temple and smiling at him again. "Are you hungry?"

Nodding, he plopped unceremoniously into a chair at the kitchen table. "Yeah, I am." Craning his neck, he struggled to see what mysterious concoction Sully had in the bowl. "Whatcha makin'?"

"How do biscuits, eggs, and bacon sound to ya?"

"Sounds good," he said, looking alternately between his ma and Sully. "Can I help?"

Sully, who'd been spooning out biscuit dough into a pan to bake, suddenly got a mischievous glint in his azure-blue eyes. "Sure ya can," he said, dusting the flour off his hands and approaching Brian. He knelt by the boy's chair and placed a hand on his shoulder. "But before ya can do that, ya gotta know the first rule of the kitchen."

Brian was instantly curious, his ice-blue eyes slightly widening. "What's that, Sully?"

Sully leaned forward conspiratorially, shooting a quick, almost sly glance at Michaela before returning his gaze to Brian. "Well, it's kind of a secret," he said in a low voice, then leaned in and whispered something in the boy's ear.

When Brian laughed, Michaela got the strange feeling she was in trouble. "Why do I get the feeling that you two are involved in some sort of conspiracy that I should know about?" she asked, a playful glint in her eyes as she began to slice a block of bacon into thin strips.

As innocently as he could manage, Sully shrugged, Brian following suit. "I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," he said nonchalantly, rising to his feet. "I'm gonna go get some eggs. Brian, you stay here and help your ma, and don't forget the first rule of the kitchen."

"Right Sully," Brian giggled, "'Don't let Ma touch the biscuits.' I got it."

The astonished look on Michaela's face was absolutely priceless, and it took absolutely all of Sully's self-control not to burst out laughing. He cocked his head, putting on his most innocent smile and waiting to see her reaction.

For a moment she was still, as if contemplating the situation, but after a moment she smiled sweetly at him, surreptitiously reaching for an object next to her. Sully's eyes widened when he saw the large wooden spoon in her hand. _She wouldn't…_

"You two are absolutely incorrigible," she said, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling with laughter. Sully's gaze never left the spoon.

Brian only looked confused. "What does in…incorrigible mean?" he asked, stumbling over the strange word.

The laughter in Michaela's eyes quickly flashed into an almost evil glint. "It means, Brian, that if Mr. Sully does not wish to become well acquainted with this spoon, he'll make himself scarce and go get the eggs."

Sully knew she was joking, but he raised his hands in mock defeat. "I'm goin', I'm goin'," he said, winking at her and squeezing Brian's shoulder before heading out the door and into the cool morning air once again.

It was only after he left that Michaela put the spoon down.

With a little, melodic laugh, she turned back to slicing the bacon, throwing Brian a glance over her shoulder. "Brian, would you put the biscuits in the oven for me?" she asked. He nodded, eager to help, and padded over to the stove, taking the pan of biscuits in one small hand and reaching for the stove door with the other. Michaela stopped him before he grabbed hold of the handle. "Wait, use this," she said, handing him a towel to protect his little fingers from the heat. "Be careful, it's hot."

Nodding again, Brian wiggled his tooth in concentration, managing to open the stove door and insert the pan of biscuits without injury. Grinning in satisfaction at his accomplishment, he turned his blue eyes up to his mother, and she responded by smiling and ruffling his hair in affection.

Michaela turned back to the bacon, placing the thin strips in a warm skillet and listening to the crackle and pop of the meat as it cooked. The smell wafted through the air, and she closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the aroma. After her time in captivity, she had learned to never take food for granted. She had never been that hungry before in her life, had never been forced to feel the agonizing ache deep in the pit of her stomach that never went away, that only grew more intense with time. She had gotten so weak that it had been all she could do to keep going, pushing herself on harder than ever before when her body was screaming for her to stop. Even now she was weak, even now she could feel herself beginning to tire, and she only hoped that it didn't show. She wanted to get better. She didn't want her children to have to worry about her anymore.

At that moment Colleen entered the kitchen, running her fingers through her long blonde hair and blinking sleep out of her eyes. "Mornin', Dr. Mike," she yawned, slipping her arms around her little brother and squeezing him tight. "Happy birthday, Brian."

"Thanks," he grinned, and Michaela, determined not to let the bacon she was so carefully overseeing burn, waited until she'd gotten it safely out of the pan and onto a plate before acknowledging Colleen's greeting. "Good morning, Colleen," she said, brushing her copper bangs out of her eyes and exhaling gently.

Colleen smiled and slipped her arm around her mother's waist, and Michaela let her nose fall into her daughter's sweet-smelling hair. She drew strength from the girl's warm embrace. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm-hmm," Colleen murmured with a nod, her eyes closed and her head resting in the crook of Michaela's neck. "Ya could've woke me up to help with breakfast though."

Michaela gently shook her head, releasing her hold on her daughter and moving the now-empty skillet off of the stove and placing it in the washtub to soak. "I could have, but you needed your rest," she said, reaching for another pan and placing it on the stove to get warm. "You've been such a big help to me lately, and I think it's time that I start returning the favor."

Colleen smiled shyly at the older woman's praise, and Michaela patted her shoulder lovingly. The young girl had been indispensable the past few days, and Michaela knew that she couldn't have managed without her. She returned her daughter's smile.

"Sully and me've been helpin' Ma out, Colleen," Brian piped up, his sandy hair bobbing as he swung his dangling feet restlessly above the floor.

Looking around the homestead, Colleen frowned slightly. "Where is Sully?"

"Right here," came a husky voice from the doorway. Sully reappeared at that moment carrying a basket of eggs, and he safely delivered his delicate cargo to Michaela. "Mornin', Colleen," he said, tipping his chin in acknowledgment, then turned back to Dr. Mike. "Got a pan ready for those eggs?" he asked.

"Yes, and the biscuits are in the oven," she replied, and noting the way his eyebrows arched and his lips curled, she rolled her eyes and added, "Don't worry, Brian helped me. I didn't violate the first rule of the kitchen."

Colleen, the joke lost on her, looked puzzled. "What's the first rule of the kitchen?"

Brian and Sully looked at each other for a moment. Then, simultaneously, they said, "Don't let Dr. Mike touch the biscuits."

Colleen burst out laughing, first looking at the slightly sheepish grins on her brother's and Sully's faces, then shifting her gaze to her mother. Michaela rolled her eyes again and shook her head, smiling resignedly and admitting defeat. "Honestly, you two," she sighed, cracking some of the eggs Sully had brought in into a bowl and scrambling them with a fork. Sully sidled up next to her and whispered something into her ear that Colleen didn't quite catch, and she smiled up at him, her mismatched eyes dancing. Brian shot an ecstatic, wide-eyed grin at his older sister, and Colleen wondered what he knew that she didn't. _Are they finally courting again?_ she wondered silently, hoping beyond hope that that was the case. Her mother had never been happier than she had been when she was with Sully, and, in retrospect, she had never been more heartbroken than when the whole incident with Catherine had occurred. Colleen had heard her crying herself to sleep some nights, letting the tears come only when she thought she was alone, and it had deeply hurt Colleen to know that someone as brave and strong as her mother could be so shattered on the inside.

But now, things looked different. Dr. Mike and Sully looked so comfortable together, the tension that had been between them since Catherine's departure dissipating as though it had never been. Despite the emotional turmoil they'd been through since Dr. Mike's abduction, the two seemed…happy, content, at peace with each other for the first time in a long while. They seemed to be as in love as ever, and Colleen couldn't be more glad.

Colleen's reverie was interrupted by Brian's voice. "Ma, can I go get Matthew for breakfast now?" he asked, restless with excitement and anticipation. Colleen couldn't fault him for his enthusiasm. After all, it was his birthday.

"I suppose so," Dr. Mike answered him. "Breakfast will be ready soon anyway."

"Thanks Ma!" Brian said, practically jumping out of his seat.

"Good luck gettin' him up," Colleen snorted in remembrance. "Matthew can sleep through almost anythin'."

"Nuh-uh," Brian disagreed, shaking his mop of blonde hair. "He'll jump right on up if I tell 'im Ingrid's here."

Michaela and Colleen laughed aloud, and Sully couldn't stifle his grin. "Maybe ya better not go that route, Brian," Sully said with a chuckle. "He might be mad when he wakes up and finds out it ain't true."

Brian had made it to the door and pulled on his jacket already, but he stopped to contemplate Sully's suggestion. "You're right, Sully," he said thoughtfully. "Guess I'll have to jump on him instead." With a cheeky grin, Brian darted out the door.

"No, wait Brian, don't-" Michaela began, but the little boy was long gone. She shook her head and sighed, long and slow, feeling her strength beginning to leave her. She felt frustrated, unable to do even the simplest of tasks for very long, and she firmly set her jaw. Determined not to let her weakness shine through, she poured the scrambled eggs into the pan and agitated them with her spoon as they cooked.

Sully, however, had noticed the way she leaned heavily against the wooden counter next to the stove for support, and he knew she was tiring. Ever the stubborn, independent woman he loved, she pushed herself to finish what she'd begun, trying not to let her inner weakness be visible. But Sully knew her, knew how to look past her defenses and see her inner self, and he knew how tired she was. He leaned in close to her, his lips not far from her ear, and he breathed in the delicate, intoxicating scent of her hair. "Hey," he said in a low voice, "why don't you take it easy for a minute?"

She shook her head, attempting nonchalance. "I'm alright," she returned, her voice as low and soft as his had been.

But he wouldn't take no for an answer. "C'mon, Michaela, give it a rest," he whispered, meeting her eyes and sliding an arm around her waist. "Ya don't have to do everything alone, ya know."

Michaela sighed, but she didn't fight him, and she allowed him to lead her to a chair. He brushed her chin with his fingertips, not wanting to let her go, and took the spoon from her hand. "Colleen, can ya give me a hand real quick?"

"Sure," she said, taking the spoon from him and finishing up the eggs expertly.

Though tired, Michaela couldn't resist the opportunity to tease Sully. "Don't forget the biscuits," she said innocently, catching his eyes across the room. "Wouldn't want them to burn, now, would we?"

Sully gave her an almost hangdog grin as he cautiously reached into the oven, producing the pan of biscuits and setting them on the corner of the stove. With a triumphant smirk, he tipped the pan slightly, allowing Michaela to see the contents of the pan without dumping the hot biscuits onto the floor. "Not a black mark on 'em," he said. "Maybe we shouldn't let you touch 'em more often."

Michaela's lips quirked into a crooked half-smile. There really was nothing she could say to that.

* * *

The first thing Matthew became aware of as he slowly drifted back to consciousness was the fact that someone, or something, was savagely shaking his shoulder, his body rocking in a staccato rhythm in perfect sync with that of the person or thing doing the shaking. As sound gradually began to waft into his sensorium, he inwardly groaned, wishing he could bury his head beneath his pillow and block out the incessant little voice of his very excited younger brother.

"Matthew? Matthew, come on, ya gotta wake up. Can ya hear me? C'mon, wake up, will ya? Please?"

Matthew groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "Brian," he croaked, his voice thick with sleep. It would be his effervescent little brother that brought him out of the blissful oblivion of slumber. Colleen had decided to play dirty this morning. He made a mental note to pay her back when he was more awake.

Opening one eye, Matthew peeked through his lids at his surroundings, and Brian's eager face gradually swam into focus. "Ya awake?"

"Gettin' there." Yawning, he let his eye drift closed again. "Whaddaya want, Brian?"

"Ma said I could come get ya for breakfast," the little boy bubbled, shifting position restlessly next to his older brother. He seemed to be almost bursting with excitement, even more so than he usually was on his birthday. Matthew wondered what had gotten him so riled up this early.

"Matthew, I gotta tell ya somethin'," Brian said, his hand still on Matthew's shoulders. "Guess what?"

Matthew felt that it was far too early to be playing guessing games, but he decided to humor his little brother. "What?" he slurred.

"You know what I heard Dr. Mike and Sully talkin' about this mornin'? They were sayin'-"

At this Matthew frowned. Something in Brian's tone seemed a little too conspiratorial for him. "Brian, did they know you was listenin' to 'em?" he interrupted.

Guilt flashed across Brian's features momentarily. "Well…no, but…"

"Brian," Matthew sighed, "you know it ain't polite to spy."

"I know, but Matthew, ya gotta listen to me. They was talkin' 'bout courtin'!"

_That_ got Matthew's attention. The older boy's eyes popped open, his brows raised in incredulity. "Really?" he asked. "They were?"

"Yeah!" Brian said happily, bouncing on his heels. "Ma asked Sully if they could talk about courtin' later, and Sully got real excited, and they both looked real happy. Sully could still be our pa, Matthew! Ain't that great?"

"Yeah," agreed Matthew, keeping his excitement in a more subdued state than his little brother was able. Personally, he thought it was about time Dr. Mike and Sully got back together. He didn't like seeing his mother unhappy, and even though he knew Sully had been at the root of that unhappiness, Matthew thought that Dr. Mike had suffered more from Sully's absence in her life than she had from the initial wound. Sully had been just as miserable without Dr. Mike, Matthew was sure. Finally it seemed all parties would be at peace; no, more than just at peace. They would be happy.

"Don't tell 'em I told you," Brian continued on, breaking Matthew out of his thoughts. "We gotta act real surprised when they tell us they're courtin' again. That way they won't know we know. Besides, I ain't told Colleen yet, and she'll be mad if she finds out we knew 'fore her."

"Alright," Matthew agreed, finally rousing himself from his blankets. "Now what was it ya said about breakfast?"

* * *

As everyone settled down to eat, Michaela found her mind wandering, thinking of how blessed she really was. Three days ago, she had been unsure of whether she would live to see her family again. Her every waking moment had been consumed with thoughts of her children: where they were, what they were doing, if they were protected and safe. She had seen their faces when she closed her eyes, and it had given her the motivation she needed to keep fighting, to survive the horrible ordeal she was facing. Their love had saved her life.

And Sully…

Sully had been the hope she'd clung to when it had seemed that there was no hope left. He had been the light in her darkness, the breath in her chest, the beat of her heart, the source of strength she'd so desperately needed. She had imagined his voice in her mind, envisioned his face, his eyes, his smile; remembered every moment they had spent together, relived every touch, every kiss, everything they'd shared. She needed him, and there was no denying it. She loved him.

When he'd come for her, risking his own life to save hers, she'd sometimes had to convince herself that he was real, that he wasn't just a figment of her imagination. He'd saved her, in more ways than one. She owed him her life, and that wasn't something that she took lightly. Someday, she would have to find a way to repay him for all he'd done. But until then, she would enjoy every moment he was with her, and never take one for granted.

Three days ago, her life had been utter chaos with no hopes of returning to normalcy again. Now, she sat at a table with the four people she loved most in her life, talking and smiling and reveling in the feel of each others' presence. Now everything was set right, and her world was spinning on its correct axis again. She no longer had to be afraid of anything, save letting this beautiful moment slip by without living it to the fullest. Though she still had some distance to cover on her road to recovery, she was finally at peace, here with her family.

Brian's incessant chatter eventually ground to a halt as they bowed their heads to give thanks to God for their blessings. Since it was Brian's birthday, it was decided that he should be the one to lead the prayer, and he had been happy to accept the responsibility. He began by simply thanking God for the food, then gradually began meandering through his gratitude for everything he would receive on his birthday, right down to the cake. A smile creased Michaela's lips. That was Brian, alright. Always grateful for the sweets.

_The little boy seemed to remember that everyone was waiting on him to finish, and he hurriedly went through the rest of his thanks. But before he finished, he slowed down a moment to add, "And God, thanks for lettin' us have Ma home with us again. Amen."_

Tears burned in Michaela's eyes, and she looked to her youngest son with her heart full of love. How had she been this lucky? "Thank you, Brian," she whispered, and the boy beamed. "You're welcome, Ma," he replied, and Michaela returned his smile.

A hand found Michaela's under the table, giving it a warm, loving squeeze, and she turned to find Sully's eyes on her, a smile on his lips as well. He went to release her, but she held onto him tighter, lacing his fingers with her own. Her gratitude was in her eyes, the softness of her gaze. _Thank you._ He squeezed her hand again, letting her know he would always be here.

Closing her eyes for just a moment, Michaela sighed in contentment. No matter what was going on outside those doors, no matter what awaited her in the future, she knew that right now, all was right in her world. Here, with Sully and her children, she had everything she could ever want. _The poet was right,_ she thought, smiling. _Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home._

**The End**

* * *

_And there you have it, folks! Thank you so much for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and constructive criticizm is welcome, but please, spare my bleeding heart the pain of a sharp tongue. After all, I'm only sixteen. Thank you again, and I hope you enjoyed my work._


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